My Left Eye

A true
story

by Dieter

My first
clue was the fact that regardless of what eyewear I used, I was seeing halos
around lights at night. Since I was often doing monovision in contact lenses,
it was particularly annoying. The reason for that was simple. My dominant eye,
the one corrected for distance, could read signs and generally see well in
daylight. But at night, my vision was obscured by a haze especially from
oncoming headlights when driving. My other eye saw a blurred image anyway
because it was corrected by less than one-half of the full prescription in order
to see moderate distances for reading and computer use. At my next eye exam, I
found out why. But first my optometrist gave me the ‘bad’ news.

“I know this
comes as a surprise at your age, but your prescription has crept up,” he stated,
“I need to raise one eye by -.25 and the other by -.50.”

“Is that why
I’m seeing halos at night?” I asked.

“We’ll talk
about that in a minute,” he replied. “I just want to make sure you’re OK with
an increase because we may have to make an adjustment for the monovision, too.”

I sat
quietly waiting for more information and assured him that I wasn’t bothered by
an increase. Secretly, I was a bit excited. Finally, I asked.

“So, what is
my real problem?

“A cataract
is forming in your left eye,” the optometrist divulged.

My heart
sunk. How could I possibly be developing a cataract at only age fifty-one? He
reassured me that everything would be fine. Cataracts develop slowly, usually
over a period of many years, so I would have lots of time to consider options.
He explained that a modern lensectomy is a simple procedure done in an
outpatient surgery center. The result of a lens replacement is much more
successful than it once had been in the past. There are even possibilities
available today such as “bifocal” lenses and built-in monovision. Also, the
surgery could be done when the problem becomes too much to tolerate since
insurance companies no longer require the cataract to become ‘ripe’. Believe
me, that term was the doctor’s; not mine. Current thinking is that a cataract
will never get better so there is no purpose in waiting for it to get worse.

I was
worried by one thing the optometrist told me. Cataracts come in pairs. He
wanted me to be prepared for the other eye to develop the same problem. He
updated my prescription and gave me new contacts with the plan being that we
wanted to optimize my vision. I got new lenses in my glasses as well since I
needed the slight increase in strength. Within a short time, however, I quit
wearing contacts altogether. Glasses, with a corrected distance prescription
for each eye, were the only way I could see well enough to be comfortable for
most activities especially at night.

One morning
eight months later, I noticed that there was some sort of murky object on my
left eye. It wouldn’t wipe away and as I tried to compensate, my eye began to
feel dry and irritated. No amount of eye drops or saline solution helped.
Eventually, I realized that the object didn’t move and was actually inside my
eye. When I awoke the next day, my vision in that eye was completely
incomprehensible. I was essentially blind in one eye. It could discern nothing
more than light. The massive obscurity had seemingly developed in a time span
of two days.

I called my
optometrist’s office and spoke with the receptionist. She was unwilling to
forward my call to the doctor because he was quite busy. When asked about my
concerns, I told her what had happened.

She asked,
“Does it look like you’re looking through waxed paper?”

“Yeah, that
is exactly what it is like!” I exclaimed.

“You have a
cataract.” She stated.

Having
confirmation from a highly trained optical professional, I was relieved that it
all seemed somewhat normal at least. Since the process of correcting a cataract
was a surgical procedure, I had to work through my medical insurance provider.
I called their hotline to find out what to do next. I was told to see my basic
care provider to get a referral. So, I called my MD’s office. Since I hadn’t
had a physical in several years, he wanted to see me in person. His
receptionist said she had an appointment available the following week. I
scheduled it.

A week
later, as a nurse checked my temperature, pulse, blood pressure, and weight, the
MD looked at my chart.

Then he
looked into my eye with some kind of an instrument.

“Boy, it’s
really clouded over!” he exclaimed.

Essentially,
that was all he could offer. He gave me the formal referral, helped me choose
an ophthalmologist at a large practice, and then scheduled an appointment for me
for about a week later.

By this
point, my eye had been ‘clouded over’ for almost two weeks. I had limited depth
perception and had a huge blind spot which was virtually anything to the left
side of my nose. Adding to all of this was the fact that I worked in a city
about seventy-five miles from home. I had to drive nearly three hours a day to
commute to work. Seeing anything in the left rear-view mirror was almost
impossible. But worst of all, I still had not seen or talked to anyone that had
any real knowledge of the subject.

At the very
least, I was quite worried. Was it nothing more than a ripened cataract? Why
had it matured in only eight months? Should I expect the same thing to happen
to my right eye? For my own peace of mind, I really needed some answers.

A week later
at the ophthalmology office, an assistant took me into a room to do a
refraction, which of course was charged to my insurance company after I paid my
co-payment. My right eye needed the usual -3.25 prescription. My left eye
could see only waxed paper. Well . . . . . duh. I’m not sure what I expected,
but I’m especially not sure what they expected. Maybe they thought I was faking
it.

Eventually,
a surprisingly young doctor arrived and began an examination. We discussed the
situation and he confirmed that it was a ripened cataract. He reassured me that
my right eye was completely clear and free of any signs of the same. At least
that was a relief. He took measurements for about thirty minutes to try to
determine the size and shape of my left eye. We discussed options but quickly
settled on surgery as the only real solution. I asked who would actually
perform the surgery and again was surprised when he said he would do it. Like I
said, he seemed so young. However, since the cataract was completely clouded
over, he wanted a confirmation of his measurements. He contacted an eye clinic
with an ultrasound machine for that purpose and scheduled an immediate
appointment. The doctor also wanted a second opinion of his findings.

After
driving a mile or two down the street, I began waiting in another room. That
was rather fascinating because there were people with extreme visual problems in
there. I saw some very exotic eyewear in that waiting area. I also overheard
several unique conversations about visual irregularities. If I hadn’t been so
concerned about my own problems, I would have enjoyed hanging out there for a
while.

Eventually,
I met with another ophthalmologist that was a specialist of some kind. He took
me into a room to get the ultrasound readings. In our discussions, this doctor
began to question my visual history. He seemed very interested when he found
that I had had an affliction known as ‘iritis’. This had begun when I was in
college and had recurred probably about eight times but always in my left eye.
I remembered this fact vividly because the first time it happened; one corny
college professor asked me, “If it’s in your left eye why isn’t it called
‘eye-left-es’ as opposed to ‘eye-right-es’?” Without going into a lot of
detail, iritis is like an extreme case of conjunctivitis or “pink eye”. It is
much more severe and impedes the ability of the iris to open and close the
pupil. This makes focus nearly impossible and causes considerable pain from
light sensitivity necessitating the use of dark glasses.

Anyway, this
doctor pointed out that the medications used for iritis are known to cause . . .
. . drum roll, please . . . . . cataracts! For nearly thirty
years, I had been prescribed and used medicine that was known to encourage the
development of cataracts and nobody bothered to tell me. Here’s a big ‘shout
out’ to the medical community. Thanks!! As the second doctor
completed the forms to go back to the first doctor, he added that this was the
likely cause and that he agreed with the diagnosis. He also attached the
measurements taken during the ultrasound procedure. The good thing was that I,
at least, had a reasonable explanation for why I had a cataract at a fairly
young age and knew that it would not likely be repeated in my other eye for the
same reason. I returned to the first ophthalmologist and we set a date for
surgery in three weeks. Those were the longest three weeks. Have I explained
how difficult it was to see and drive to work with only one eye?

The only
thing difficult about the day of surgery was that I had been told not to eat or
drink after 10:00 p.m. the previous night. Unfortunately, my procedure was
scheduled last in the afternoon. In fact, I didn’t have to be at the surgery
center until 11:30 a.m. Needless to say, by that time I was starved and
parched. And, naturally, the surgeries were running late. All afternoon, I
watched television and talked with my wife trying to do anything to keep my mind
off of food and water.

Finally, I
was rolled into the operating room where I was introduced to the
anesthesiologist and surgical nurse. Thank god, they were older than my
doctor. They would make sure he did everything correctly. Suddenly, there was
a commotion amongst the group about the bed upon which I had been placed.
Apparently it was supposed to have a triangulated or pointed end in order to
give the surgeon better access to a patient’s head. They squabbled briefly and
wanted to know the name of the nurse that had done the prep. I felt bad for her
because she had been very comforting throughout the long afternoon. But, my
doctor finally demanded that I be placed on a correct surgical bed. I remember
vividly the scene of him standing there with his hands of his hips, refusing to
budge, and completely in charge of the situation. That’s when I knew that,
despite his looks, he was no kid and he was going to do everything possible in
the best interest of me. I was in good hands.

The surgery
was a vague dream. I was not completely asleep but I was not coherent, either.
I remember seeing the people in the room floating about and having conversations
. . . . . and little else. I had no recollection of what they were doing or
saying. What actually happened is that a small slit was made in the side of my
eye and the damaged lens was sucked out. The artificial lens was folded into a
tiny roll and pushed through the slit where it unrolled and popped into place.
The slit was so small, that no sutures were necessary. When I awoke, an aide
was cleaning the room. She spoke to me as I slowly gained my wits. I soon
discovered a patch bandaged over my eye. Once fully alert the aide gave me
instructions for the night and sent me home. It was 5:30 p.m. and the surgery
center was nearly emptied of people. In fact, a man was running a vacuum in the
hallway when I left the recovery room. It had been a long day. My wife walked
me to the car and drove me across town to home where I ate and drank with
vigor. Desperately, I had almost made her stop at MacDonald’s on the way.

By 9:30 the
next morning, I was back in another office near my house (my doctor had three
throughout the city). The bandage was removed and the doctor examined my eye
with his light for a bit and seemed pleased. He asked what I could see on the
eye chart. With my left eye, I read the 20/20 line with ease. My right eye
still couldn’t see the big “E” but, then, it hadn’t been able to do that since
sometime before I was age seventeen. Of course, the doctor declared my surgery
a success. He suggested I try getting along without any corrective lenses to
see if that was comfortable then return in two weeks. Though it wasn’t exactly
the plan, I now had permanent monovision with a -3.25 difference. My dominant
eye could see nearly perfectly while my other eye could read and see the
smallest of detail. I had to hand it to the doc. He got the ‘prescription’ as
correct as you could expect. Though, I was a bit shocked when I saw myself in a
mirror in the waiting room as I left. I looked like I had been in a fight. The
white of my eye was completely blood red and I had a ‘black eye’ bruise across
the left side of my face. For the next several days, whenever someone seemed to
take notice, I would simply tell them, “You should see what I did to the other
guy!”

Without
doubt my eye and face were a bit sore and sensitive. But it didn’t feel any
worse than after any good bump to your head. Wearing sunglasses, neither I nor
anyone else could tell the difference. Leaving the doctor’s office, my wife
suggested that we travel to an office of the Department of Motor Vehicles.
Since we were both off from work, she wanted to renew the license plates for our
cars. We had not received the proper forms by mail so renewing the plates in
person would be necessary to avoid late fees. As she drove, I began to wonder
if I could pass the eye test. When we arrived, I asked the clerk what was
required and she told me that you must to be able to see 20/40 with one eye. I
read the 20/20 line with my left eye and the corrective lenses requirement was
removed from my license. It seemed amazing that I could see so well with that
‘blood-filled’ eye. The surgery had been performed only eighteen hours
previously.

It took
about a year to get totally comfortable with my ‘new and improved’ vision,
though. The discrepancy between my eyes is fairly severe. Initially it seemed
like it was difficult to see well at any distance. My eyes constantly struggled
and felt strained and exhausted. At one point, I wished that the doctor had
replaced the lens with one without correction. Then I could have worn glasses
or contacts like I always did. That option had never been suggested but I have
since read of people that have done that. In fact, I read the statements of one
lady on Eyescene that said her surgery had purposely left her at -5.00 in both
eyes because she did a lot of close work in a laboratory.

I am
contented doing most activities without correction now. Apparently, it just
took some time to relearn how to see well. As I stated previously, I have
built-in monovision that allows me to view objects in the distance almost
perfectly yet see the tiniest of objects up close. I struggle only with
mid-distances at about 18 to 36 inches. My nearsighted eye can’t see that far
without help and my ‘bionic’ eye can’t see that close especially with a
non-flexible fixed lens that has no accommodation. The one thing that concerns
me is when something has to be done to the other eye. I now know that everyone
will get cataracts if they live long enough. I fear that someday I will be
forced to deal with an age-related problem in my right eye. I’m pretty sure
that my choice would be to be left with monovision when uncorrected. One thing
I know from experience is that a replacement lens like mine is rigid. I see how
my natural lens still adjusts a little, at least. The artificial lens
compensates for nothing. Of course, technology marches on so it is
unpredictable as to what may be available at any time in the future. I just
hope it is a long time before my right eye has issues. Fortunately, it never
had any bouts with iritis.

There are
two exceptions when I do use some kind of eyewear:

(1)When
driving, I usually wear glasses. Mine have a -3.25, +.25 lens for my right eye
and a Plano, +.50 lens for my left eye. I have a small amount of astigmatism in
both eyes but it causes few problems. At times I simply wear a -3.25 contact in
my right eye. Being fully corrected for distance at night eliminates the fuzzy
lights that would otherwise obscure clear vision. I find that especially useful
when I’m in dark and unfamiliar territory. It also avoids an uncorrected view
when an object blocks the view of the good eye. This happens sometimes when
catching a glimpse into the rearview mirror with only the myopic eye.

(2) I wear a
single -1.25 contact lens on my right eye at my job since I work around computer
screens all day. Occasionally, I wear a -3.25 lens and use reading glasses.
That’s usually in situations where I want my best vision when driving to and
from work. There are also times when I prefer to use ‘computer glasses’ that
have correction to allow both eyes to see at 18 to 36 inches.

Being an OO,
I miss wearing glasses most of the time. It had been a long time since seeing
bared-eyed was an option for anything besides reading. There are times I feel
vulnerable without glasses. I had forgotten the protection they provide from
the wind when riding a bike, scooter, or motorbike; or from tree branches when
mowing the lawn; or from debris when using a weed-eater, grinding wheel, or
drill press. For protection, I now have to consciously remind myself to get
sunglasses or safety glasses when embarking into those activities.

No, I’m not
complaining. I’m sure there are millions of people that would trade their
situations with me. Some of you know what it is like to deal with eyes with
lenses that have become inflexible. The rest of you will find out soon enough.
I guess I’m pretty lucky to be my age and be able to do most everything without
glasses. But if I could just find a job without computers . . . . .